


The Cat Came Back the Very Next Day

by NeoVenus22



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Cats, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-17
Updated: 2010-01-17
Packaged: 2017-10-06 09:22:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeoVenus22/pseuds/NeoVenus22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney's feline friend causes John much grief.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cat Came Back the Very Next Day

John had protested against it viciously. Ronon had been on his side —Ronon usually was— but Teyla and McKay had been so supportive that Elizabeth couldn't say no. Beckett had given a full examination, and had deemed the situation perfectly safe. And so Atlantis had ended up with its very own mascot: a small, bedraggled, three-legged alien cat.

The cat, which John understood was named after a slight bastardization of the Athosian term for 'strength of spirit', had taken up residence in McKay's quarters. It went everywhere McKay did; the scientist scooped the raggedy little beast in his arms and carted it to his lab and meetings. It wasn't allowed inside the mess hall —the only thing John had been able to get away with as far as the cat was concerned— but the city's residents had quite a love affair with the thing. It had been scrawny and near-death when they'd first rescued it planetside, but after two weeks or so of TLC and secret feedings that did not fit into McKay's harsh diet regiment, the cat had grown plump and satisfied to the point of smug.

To John's relief, he wasn't the only one who was made uneasy by the cat. Ronon had a tendency to bristle whenever it was around. When meetings fell to the wayside because certain personnel were illogically taken with the way a certain kitty played with a ball of yarn —where the yarn had come from was a mystery best left unsolved, as far as John was concerned— Ronon was first in line behind John out the door.

"I know this isn't strictly a military base," Ronon said after one such instance, "but it isn't a zoo, either."

"Depends on your definition of zoo," John cracked. "But I'm telling you, buddy, we've gotta draw the line somewhere."

"I don't like it," Ronon said. "The cat. It bugs me. It's always... around."

"What, think it's a Wraith spy or something?" he asked, only half-joking, because weirder stuff had happened. Ronon glared at him, and John knew it was the stupidest thing he'd ever said. He shrugged off the disapproval in Ronon's dark gaze, turned towards the mess, and muttered over his shoulder, "Pretty soon, McKay's gonna be the city's cat lady."

John had problems sleeping nights. It was hard to sleep comfortably with the Ford thing and the ever-increasing threat of Wraith attack, so he ended up tossing and turning for ages. Until he decided to go for a walk. It was the presence of the gene in him, that tiny bit of Ancient, that seemed to calm the city, and likewise, though he'd never admit it, he was often just as calmed by the city itself. He strolled through, nodding his greetings at the Marines, trying to pretend this wasn't a regular occurrence.

John made a left down an abandoned hallway, one that afforded a beautiful view of the ocean unfettered by the city's towers, but had the unfortunate side effect of a constant chill due to some glitch in the system McKay was too busy to fix. There was a lab in occasional use, but the living quarters remained unoccupied. John entered one such room and situated himself at the window, finding that if he stood at exactly the right angle, the window frame blurred out of his periphery, and he was suspended weightless in front of an endless expanse of black sea and black sky, with no horizon dividing them. It was the closest he could get to flying without borrowing a jumper, and it soothed him.

He hadn't realized he'd been followed until something brushed against the ankle of his pants, and he looked down to see the damn cat nuzzling his leg. Under normal circumstances, John would have pointedly but not cruelly nudged the cat away, but he was too tired to put up much of a resistance. "Can't sleep either, huh?" he asked. The cat remained at his side, not quite wrapped around his leg, warm and silent. When John couldn't stand any longer, he settled himself in a slightly dusty chair, and the cat stared up at him. John hesitated for only a moment, then scooped the animal into his lap.

The days following, John and the cat made no acknowledgement of each other's existence. But John remembered the warm, undemanding weight in his lap, and could begin to understand the lure of its company.


End file.
